


You Don't Mean That

by KalelDobrev



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon!Dean, F/M, Language, Pregnant, Reader Insert, Witch!Reader, demon!dean is an absolute dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalelDobrev/pseuds/KalelDobrev
Summary: Sam and the reader finally find Dean and bring him back to the Bunker. Sam says not to talk to Dean before they cure him, but the reader has other plans.(Takes place during season 10)(Originally posted on Tumblr)





	You Don't Mean That

“Y/N, I don’t want you going into the dungeon until we can cure Dean okay?” Sam said coming out of the archive room placing a padlock onto the door. After months of searching, Sam and you finally managed to find Dean and bring him back to the Bunker. Well, Sam brought him back to the Bunker. When the two of you managed to get a location on him, you were all hyped and ready to go, ready to see the man you had wanted to spend the rest of your life with; but Sam wouldn’t let you go. He said that it was too dangerous and didn’t want you to get hurt both physically and mentally. Even though you told Sam that you knew Dean wasn’t Dean and wouldn’t take anything he said to heart; you weren’t fooling Sam; he knew you way too well and knew you’d take it to heart. So you did what Sam told you to do and sat in the War Room, waiting for them to come back.

You saluted him. “Aye, aye Captain.” You said, crossing your arms. You eyed Sam, and then eyed the padlock before looking at Sam again. Sam looked at you, noticing that you looking at the padlock. He shook his head, placing the key in his front pocket.

“Don’t even think about it Y/N.” He said. His tone was firm and serious. “That padlock is made of iron…” He trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I made sure of that so you can’t use your magic.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sam, you really think that low of me?” You tried to joke with him, but from the look on his face, he clearly didn’t take your joke. This was probably due to the fact that it’s been a long few months and Sam getting any sleep was a very rare occurrence. The only time he actually got any sleep is when you mixed up one of your sleeping potions and slipped it into his coffee. Doing that, he was able to get at least four to six hours, depending on the strength you made it. You didn’t like doing that to Sam, but that was one of the only ways for him to get sleep; it was for the best. 

“Just…Just don’t go in there okay?” He sounded defeated, sighing a bit before he started walking down the hallway in the opposite direction of his bedroom. You had hoped that once you guys had found Dean, one of the first things he would do was get some sleep; but he obviously had other plans.  


“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You suggested. He turned around, giving you a quick nod before continuing down the hallway.

About twenty minutes later, you were bringing in two mugs of coffee – one for you and one for Sam. For Sam, this was roughly his fourth or fifth cup of the day, but for you, because of your current circumstance, this was your first and only cup of the day. “Here you go” You said and placed his mug in front of him before taking the chair next to him, placing your own mug on the table. 

“Thanks,” He lazily said before looking up at you. “Sorry about twenty minutes ago.” He apologized. He took a small sniff of his coffee before taking a sip.  


You waved off his apology. “It’s okay, I understand.” You gave him a soft smile. “It’s been a really rough few months. But, hopefully some of the stress and roughness will start to subside since we have Dean back.” You commented, which earned a small smile from Sam, something you hadn’t seen in months.

“I hope so.” He sighed, sounding hopeful. “All we have to do is cure Dean now, and I don’t even know if that’s going to work.” He rubbed his face in frustration and tiredness, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I have faith it’ll work.” You said placing your hand on top of Sam’s in a comforting manner; a simple action that seemed to calm him down. You found it a little funny that this simple action was able to calm both Winchester’s down.

Some time had gone by and Sam had now finished his coffee. Every so often you’d look up from your book and see him yawning more and more. You were starting to mentally prepare yourself to go and talk to Dean, well, a version of Dean anyway. Your stomach was in knots and your heart was pounding. Usually these were things you had felt whenever you were around Dean normally, but this time was different. Instead of them being an excited version, it was a nervous version. All you wanted to do was talk to Dean, and try to find out if there was some part of him still in there, or he was just as bad as Sam said he was. Even though he was demon, there had to be some part of him still in there right?

When you looked up about a few minutes later, you saw Sam resting his head on one of the books; sound asleep. You took a deep breath and got up from your chair, trying not to make a lot of noise. You knew that there was no way Sam was going to be getting up for at least an hour or two; no matter how much noise you made; but you were still afraid. When you got up from your chair, you did your best to try and grab the key from Sam’s jean pocket using your hands, but you couldn’t get the key. You chanted one of your spells and the key managed to be removed from his pocket and getting placed into your hand.

Having the key now in your hand, you walked down the hallway, your heart pounding faster and your stomach taking in more knots. You reached the door, holding the key to the lock; your head was slightly shaking. In that moment, one part of you were screaming at you not to do this. To listen to Sam and not to go in; telling you that this was the worst idea that you could possibly do. But yet, there was another part of you that was also screaming at you to do this. The part of you that had an extreme weakness to Dean; a part of you that you hated and feared but also loved. You looked down at your stomach, sighing a little before unlocking the door.  


You walked in, and it was quiet; quieter than you had thought it would be. You closed the door again before walking towards the shelves that pulled apart. Before you could pull apart the shelves, you heard Dean speak. “It’s about damn time.” His voice was cold; definitely not the same as it was months before. You undid the shelves and saw Dean in the Devil’s trap, tied to a chair. A smirk formed on his face. “There she is.” You stood there looking at him for a moment, his head tilted. “I could hear your heart beat before you even walked in the door.” 

You walked toward him, trying your best to keep your distance; but it was hard. All you wanted to do was hug and kiss him, and tell him the good news. But there was no way you could do any of that right now. There was so much you had wanted to say to him, but nothing was coming out of your mouth. “I just came to talk.” You said, grabbing a chair and sitting down. You folded your hands and placed them on your lap.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” He started to say. “What do you want to talk about?” He asked. His voice was so cold, and not the usual gruff and warmness Dean’s voice usually was. His voice was emotionless and made a chill run up our spine. Dean eyed you, waiting for you to say something. But before you could, he decided on a topic himself. “I see you're pregnant. Sam finally get the courage to knock you up? Or was it an accident?” You felt your heart sink at his comment.

“You really think that low of me?” You asked, trying your best not to show any emotion like he was doing. But you knew he wasn’t faking the lack of emotion.

“There’s a lot of things I think about you.” He told you. His voice was calm, yet still so cold. He smirked. “None of them are particularly pleasant though.”

“Oh?” His comment made you curious. “What do you think of me?” You asked. You were afraid of his answers, but you had no time to mentally prepare yourself for the kind of abuse he was going to through at you. Remember Y/N, this isn’t Dean. He doesn’t mean any of this.

“Do you really want to know? Because, as far as I remember, you’re very…What’s the right word?” He thought for a moment. “Delicate. No, maybe fragile is more accurate.” He seemed so pleased with himself. “If I recall, anything that my old self ever said to you, you took way, way too much to heart. Even though, a lot of those things he didn’t really mean.”

There it was. You felt your heart starting to break, proving Dean’s point. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter Dean.” You tried your best to sound like his comments weren’t affecting you, but wasn’t sure if it came across or not; most likely it didn’t and saw right through you; Dean always managed to see right through you. “I know you meant every single word, especially all the times you said you loved me and wanted to –”

A cold, unpleasant laugh escaped from his lips. A shiver ran down your spine. This really wasn’t your Dean. “Sweetheart, I never wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I only said that because that’s what you wanted to hear.” You felt your heart stop. You knew he was lying, but you hated hearing him say it. “And all the times I said I loved you well…” He trailed off. “I hate to break it to you but, part of the reason I said it was so I could get into your pants, and boy” he looked down at your stomach, “it worked, every. Single. Time. I mean, I said I love you, and you were practically begging me to fuck you.”

“Dean, I know you don’t mean that.” You tried your best to stay calm, but it was getting harder and harder to stay here and listen to him with each thing he said to you. You knew he didn’t mean it, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt you.

“I do. I’ve felt this way for as long as we were together, I’m just man enough to finally admit to myself and to you. The thought of spending the rest of my life with you was a nightmare. You have no idea how many times I thought about trying to get myself killed on a hunt just so I wouldn’t have to hear the sound of your nasally voice or look at your face again.” He smirked, so proud of himself for trying to break you down. You were filled with rage and hurt; trying your best to hold back the tears. You didn’t want to prove to this version of Dean how weak you were.

“Are you done?” Now you were the cold one. Your tone was serious, and you tried sounding annoyed.

“Wow.” He almost sounded impressed. “Did Y/N finally grow a backbone and stop hiding behind her magic?”

Before you could speak, you heard the door open. The potion clearly wasn’t as strong as you had thought you had made it. “Y/N, I thought I told you not to come in here.” Sam said, practically running over to you. He eyed both you and Dean. Dean had the biggest smirk on his face.

“Hey there Sammy. Glad you could join the party.” He commented. “Y/N and I were just having a nice little chat. Sharing our feelings. Real chick flick moments.” At that moment, you got up from your chair and looked at Sam, giving him an apologetic look. Sam looked at you, not saying anything, but you could tell that he wasn’t mad at you; only concerned. As you started to walk away, Dean spoke again. “Aw, leaving so soon. We were just getting to the good part!” Dean yelled and then let out a laugh. His laugh was the last thing you heard before you felt yourself practically running out of the room down the hallway to the bedroom you had been using, instead of the one you and Dean had been sharing.

You lied there in your bed staring at the wall; many thoughts were consuming you and some tears were rolling down your cheeks. You heard a knock on you doorframe and you looked up. Sam was standing there, a neutral expression on his face. “Sorry.” You sounded defeated. You didn’t want argue with Sam right now; you honestly didn’t want to do anything right now.

“What did he say to you?” He walked toward your bed, sitting on the edge. His voice was full of concern; clearly he wasn’t mad at you; but you could tell that he was worried about you.

You sighed. “He said he never loved me and that the only reason he said he loved me was so he could get into my pants. He said that the thought of spending the rest of his life with me was a nightmare and that he wanted to purposely get killed on a hunt so he wouldn’t have to –”

Sam placed his hand on your shoulder. There was hurt in his eyes. “We’re going to cure him.” Was all he said before getting up. You looked at him, sitting up in your bed.

“And if we don’t?” You asked.

He stopped dead in his tracks. “I don’t know.” He said and walked out of your room.


End file.
